


Cloudy Skies

by HotDogandFries (DerpyMcButtface)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hanzo and Genji brother things, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, Mpreg, but Genji-centric, siblings being siblings, young mchanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerpyMcButtface/pseuds/HotDogandFries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Shimada brothers-centric) They used to be the best of friends.</p><p>But now Hanzo's turning eighteen, and Genji's left feeling like he doesn't have much of a place in his older brother's life anymore. </p><p>When Hanzo returns from an overseas meeting heartbroken and pregnant with some Blackwatch alpha's child though, Genji finds himself the single person left on the planet that still has his brother's back. And who is Jesse McCree anyways?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's more focus on the brothers' relationship mending and breaking apart than actual McHanzo content- but there'll be that too, when Hanzo opens up a little more.

**Present, McCree**

The churning of the small transport’s engines throbbed through the air, and McCree dug at his pockets, wishing that smoking was allowed onboard.

The cause of his restlessness stared back at him, dark eyes unreadable. Hanzo Shimada sat opposite of him, bow strapped to his back and legs crossed at the ankle.

“We have a lot to catch up on,” McCree said finally, trying to fill the silence. There were a lot of things he wanted to ask. _Why don’t you remember me?_ was at the top of that list, followed closely by _Do you hate me?_ and _What happened to you?_

But Hanzo remained silent.

“Dr. Ziegler said you had something to tell me,” he continued, running a hand over Peacemaker’s decorative spur. “But I think she might be mistaken. Well, Hanzo, going to be a pleasure working with you-“

The Japanese man interrupted, steeling his gaze and stating coldly, “I had a child.”

**Past, Genji**

 All the elders and all the elders’ men hadn’t been able to stop him. He did it. He conquered.

His hair was officially lime green. When he snuck home last night from the hair salon with his new colors, his uncle Kento screamed for ten minutes straight before grabbing his smelling ointment and sobbing, “Dye it back and shave it off!”

“Maybe you could have just gone for a few streaks?” Auntie Kaori asked hoarsely, her large eyes wrinkled in secondhand embarrassment. “Or… Done an ombre… I think maybe a dark gray to green ombre would look nice on you…”

“It’s garish. It’s hideous,” Kento groaned in disbelief.

“You know, when I was young, we had this trend with hidden rainbow hair… Would you like to try that, Genji? I’ll book an appointment with my stylist right now-“

“Why did you do this? Why do you do this? Wait until your father sees! Isamu should take your hide to the wall!”

That was yesterday, though, and oh, Father would see all right, momentarily, the first thing he’d see when he set foot back on Japanese soil. Genji sat back and smiled as the clamshell stairs unfurled from the side of the plane, the base of the steps tapping down a foot away from his feet. He already knew, by heart, his father’s Five Stages of Genji-Related Grief: Disbelief, anger, frustration, humor, and finally admitting that Mother would have either liked it or had done something like it herself, in her youth.

And Hanzo, of course, would be mad. He’d be embarrassed. But Genji hoped, maybe Hanzo would laugh.

“Anija! Hey remember when I said-“ The words died in his throat. Genji realized something was wrong the moment his father and brother appeared in the doorway of the plane. They stood, carefully positioned as to not look directly at each other even on accident, and Hanzo was without his usual blazer, showing the defeated slump of his shoulders.

“Go to your room,” Father said hesitantly. There a note of uncertainty in his voice that Hanzo returned with his nervous stare. Grounding wasn’t a very good punishment- Hanzo would probably have shut himself in to sulk anyways. But the both of them crept forward as unsure as unfledged birds, neither knowing which branch to hop to next. This was Hanzo’s first time being disciplined, and Father’s first time having to discipline his eldest son.

When Hanzo obeyed, it was probably more of a desire to flee than actual piety. He shot down the stairs, pushing aside the servants who tried to bow to him, and barreling past Genji without a second glance.

Even with the hair.

“Father,” Genji called out, feeling for all the world as if a carpet had been tugged out from under his feet. He looked up at the older man in the plane and waited as he climbed down the stairs.

“Genji.” Father’s looked at him wearily, his face pained. He began to turn away, but stopped himself and gave his youngest son a firm pat on the shoulder.

“How was you n’ Hanzo’s trip?” Genji asked deliberately.

He nodded distractedly. “Good. We spoke with the Blackwatch branch of Overwatch, and I have agreed that the clan will cooperate with them on the matter of Daegu. I will send you a list of agreements later. There is a temporary contract. Read them.”

“Can you go over them with me?” Genji pleaded. “In case I need someone to explain.”

Usually the notion of being able to bring Genji onboard actual business would have delighted the older man. But today, Father shook his head, his gaze somewhere else. “Genji- ah, maybe… Maybe tomorrow?” he said quietly. “I am going to Akatani.”

 _Akatani._ The rolling green hills, the moss under the trees, Mother’s grave. Something was going on. “Okay, I’ll go ask Hanzo.” he said bullishly.

“No- don’t.” Father insisted, squeezing Genji’s shoulder again, this time as a warning. “Your brother… Your brother’s very tired. Let him rest.”

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

Father sighed, his eyes sinking into his crowfeet wrinkles, more tired than Genji had ever seen him. “The talks went well. But your brother made… Your brother made a big mistake and he doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s going to be in trouble, but it’s going to be okay. That’s all.”

“You can’t just leave it at that-“ Genji watched Father’s back disappearing down the hall, no doubt towards the garage.

He saw neither of them again until late that night, on his way to the toilet.

In the fluorescent light of the bathroom, at two in the morning, there his brother was at the mirror, hair brushed aside and applying ointment to a wound on his neck. And there it was, without the high-collared shirt to hide it- at the junction of Hanzo’s neck and shoulders, a fresh mating mark.

Genji was nearly fifteen, and his brain worked faster than his common sense. “Bro, is that a-“

Hanzo whirled around, his face twisted in surprise and rage, his eyes puffy and red. “Get _out!_ ” he roared, grabbing his face wash and hurling it with deadly accuracy. “ _Get out!_ ”

Genji fled, springing down the hallway and back to his room, panting more from shock than exertion. So that’s what went horribly wrong on the trip. He kicked off his slippers and threw himself onto his bed, fizzling with nervous excitement. _My brother’s mated. He’s gone and gotten himself mated._ His mind exploded with questions, and it was all he could do not not run back and demand every last detail. As the surprise faded away, disappointment took its place as Genji realized, no one was going to tell him anyways.

_Stupid Anija._

* * *

To anyone outside the family, it could have been that nothing had happened at all. Whatever matters had been discussed, whatever punishment ladled onto his older brother, no one had thought to let outsiders- or Genji- know. The most anyone had ever told him was his father hushing him off, saying, “It doesn’t change anything at all. It’s not important.”

_Guess I’m not either._

But behind the closed-off arguments, shouts and battering, and calves sore from kneeling, it took months for the last of the affair to settle into the dust.

“You look awful,” Hanzo informed him one day, pouring out two cups of warm water and handing one over the table.

Genji couldn’t disagree. It had been another late night at the club followed by an early morning in the arcade- not that Hanzo would care. Still, Hanzo was one to talk about looking awful, anyways. Whatever was burning up behind the compound doors had not been easy on him- his face had turned gaunt and sallow under stress, his eyes dull whenever he looked at the elders _._ And as was becoming usual, not a word to his younger brother. “You look weird,” he said, grabbing the offered mug. He pressed and popped the cap off of all his medicine caddies in order to pick out his pills for the day: a broad-spectrum scent blocker, a heat suppressant, a combination contraceptive and three different STD-prophylaxis drugs.

Hanzo, on the other hand, had only the first two in his caddy.

“It’s annoying being an omega. Betas don’t have to do all this. But lucky you,” Genji whined, eyeing his brother’s smaller collection. “You only got two pills _and_ they’re small.”

“If you didn’t fool around so much, maybe you wouldn’t have to take so many pills,” Hanzo snorted, slipping his daily dose into his mouth and swallowing with a large gulp of water.

“If you had more fun maybe you wouldn’t be so shitty.” Genji peered sideways, trying to gauge his brother’s reaction. Hanzo’s lips were pursed as if he were trying to stop a laugh. _Score._ “Hey, what are we doing next week for your birthday?”

Hanzo shrugged, putting his water down and reaching of his tea. “Father doesn’t have anything planned. It’s only my eighteenth birthday.”

“No, I mean, what are _we_ doing?” Genji grinned. “Let’s not try bake a cake again. But the chocolate factory does tours, and-“

“Genji. I am busy.”

“But it’s your birthday!” he protested. “We have to do something. You know, in America turning eighteen’s a big thing.”

“We’re not in America.” Hanzo lifted his eyebrows and scowled at the ceiling. “Why are you so set on doing something? It’s my birthday, not yours.”

“…We used to always do something.” The sentence came out rawer than Genji intended. The moment the sadness left his lips, he looked away, trying to find something to laugh it off with.

For his part, Hanzo was silent, his hands wrapped around the cup. “You should ask Dr. Kuo if she can take you off some of your pills. So much medication cannot be good for you,” he said finally, ignoring the subject.

Giving up, Genji sighed and went back to filling his canister. “No, this is as little as I can get it.”

Hanzo pointed to the contraceptives. “You’re already on heat suppressant. You don’t need those,” he insisted.

 _This is why we have to let kids on the internet._ “Um… Bro, yes, I do? They’re not the same thing. Heat suppressants don’t prevent babies.”

His older brother’s face told him clearly that this was new information. “What?”

“Heat suppressants aren’t contraceptives.” He chuckled at finally one-upping his older brother in a game of facts- even if it was in a less-than-businesslike subject. “You didn’t know?”

“I don’t have any interest in the matter,” Hanzo said curtly, averting his eyes. “And this is definitely not something I want to discuss with you.”

Genji fell silent. “Nothing is,” he mumbled.

* * *

 _15:35._ Outside the running track in the compound, Genji chalked the number on the board. “Anija. You’re not going to like this,” he said.

Behind him, Hanzo panted hard, as if he had run a marathon and just his two miles. “What?” he gasped hoarsely.

“Your time sucks again!” Genji peered at his brother.

Hanzo looked like a mess. He glared at Genji from behind the bangs plastered to his face, too tired to wipe them out of the way as he tried to catch his breath, arms braced against his knees. “Just tell me,” he growled.

“Fifteen thirty five. I guess that’d be good if you were like, fifty or something,” he teased. His eyes wandered up to the previous entries- a steady slope down from the thirteen minutes his older brother usually cut. “Anija, you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”

Hanzo only grunted behind him.

“You know, I think it’s having an- Hanzo?” Genji turned around just in time to see his brother slump to the floor. “ _Hanzo_!”

* * *

“He just collapsed,” Genji repeated. Still in his training clothes, he slumped against the waiting room chair of the private clinic. “Doctor said right away it’s dehydration.”

Aunt Kaori chewed her nail, wincing as a papery cuticle tore off. “He hasn’t been looking so good lately,” she fretted. “I knew we shouldn’t have been so hard on him. He really is just a kid, and you know, children make mistakes- dye their hair pink and run off with the girl from sculpture class-“

“Stop it, Kaori,” Uncle Kento signed. “Your anxiety’s giving me anxiety.”

But the old woman turned around to Genji. “Genji, he always talks to you! Did he ever say anything to you? Like he wasn’t feeling well?”

“He threw up a few times before, but he doesn’t really tell me much anymore,” he replied, a bit more coldly than he had intended.

“So he _has_ been sick-“

“Auntie, this was a month ago that he threw up! I don’t know anything more than you!”

“Is there something funny going on? Is he into the drugs?” Aunt Kaori continued, her eyes boring into him behind her purple circle lenses. “Oh my God. Is that why he is refusing to see any doctor except for Dr. Kuo?”

The door burst open. Father walked out first, visibly shaken, following in the wake of Great-Uncle’s wrath.

“Call an emergency meeting,” Great-Uncle commanded shortly. “In the innermost hall.”

“Subject matter?” Aunt Kaori asked, whipping out one of her bedazzled phones.

Great-Uncle looked at Father’s downtrodden face, and at Genji, staring in shock. “Confidential. Isamu, hurry. Let’s go.”

“Hey,” Genji cried out in protest, but the ex-patriarch was already ushering the three adults out, leaving only their security force behind. “Hey!” he exclaimed to the nearest guard, a plainclothes woman with cybernetics hidden all the way to her feet. “Hey, Rumiko, what’s going on?” he pleaded. “Where’s my brother?”

Rumiko ignored him, focusing on continuously scanning her data-eye over her surroundings.

“Genji?” a soft voice called out from the interior door. It wasn’t a nurse, but Dr. Kuo herself out to fetch him. An old friend of his mother’s, she had been the brothers’ primary doctor since they were born, and her familiar face was a spot of comfort for him in the whirlwind.

“Dr. Kuo, what’s going on?” he immediately blurted, manners be damned. “Is Hanzo-“

“Your brother is in fine. He’s tired but in good health- no, he’s not dying!” she exclaimed at his expression. “Everything’s okay. Why don’t you come in? Your brother’s here.” The middle-aged doctor smiled reassuringly, her face gentle as always. “My favorite patients,” she laughed, but even her normal good cheer could not hide the worry in her eyes. She led Genji past the nurses’ station and to one of the examination rooms, and knocked on the door. “Hanzo? Genji’s here. Can we come in?”

Faintly, a trembling “Yes” from the other side.

Genji barreled in before the doctor could even fully open the door, relief propelling him forward. “Hanzo!” he exclaimed. “Hanzo, you won’t believe-“ He stopped, wishing that the first thing he saw was his brother, and not the rolled-in ultrasound machine and the LCD screen. Because whatever was on the screen, it looked just like the one in his basic biology textbook of a fetus. “What is that, looks like a baby,” he demanded. “Hey, bro. Anija. You okay?”

Hanzo didn’t look up, and with his head lowered, the side bangs covered his face from Genji’s gaze. He was silent, his face pale and his hands clamped vice-like around the fabric of his thin robe. Beside him, an IV drip wound its way into the needle in his arm.

“Hey. At least say hi,” Genji wheedled, sitting down on the chair next to the bed. “Man, you should see the geezers! Kicking up a storm over- hey, doc says you don’t have cancer and you’re not dying.”

The room fell silent as his words faded into the air.

“Hanzo,” Dr. Kuo said gently, coaxingly.

Hanzo seemed to ignore her, before slowly, nodding.

“Do you want me to tell your brother for you?” she asked.

Another nod.

Dr. Kuo looked over at Genji with her good-doctor face. “Genji, your brother’s three months pregnant.”

 _Oh my gods. All of them._ _But Hanzo doesn’t even-_ His thought jolting in horror, he remembered the business trip three months ago, the mating mark on his brother’s neck. “And we just found out now?” he cried.

“Maybe if your Council wasn't too busy holding disciplinary meetings and debating a suitable punishment, they’d have remembered to order some bare-bones, basic laboratory tests,” Dr. Kuo mumbled.

 _Holy shit. Holy shit Hanzo went and got himself knocked up! That’s something I’d expect from me, not him, holy shit Hanzo’s going to have a baby._ “Whoa.”

It was just him, Hanzo, and the doctor left in the clinic. The elders were probably ready to crucify Hanzo, and Father for defending him, back at the compound. And there was the fetus on the screen, blissfully unaware of all the trouble it was causing.

“Whoa. Hey, so.” Genji swallowed in discomfort, trying to regain his bearings but not sure what to say. “Am I… Going to have a niece or a nephew?” This was definitely not a talk he had ever thought he’d have having.

“What do I do?” Hanzo asked shakily, so quietly for the first words he had spoken in a long time.

“I’ve spoken to your father about this matter-“ Dr. Kuo began before cutting herself off, realizing he was not addressing her.

But Genji didn’t have a better answer. “I-I don’t know,” he admitted. “Hanzo… I don’t know. You’re the one who knows what to do.” Because it was better than nothing, he asked, “What did Father and Grand-Uncle say?”

“I’m eighteen,” Hanzo said shakily. “That’s an adult in America.”

“Anija... Please don’t do anything that’ll make me the heir,” Genji said weakly.

“Can’t I do anything?” he asked, finally looked up at the doctor.

Dr. Kuo shook her head. “I’m sorry, Hanzo. If you were a woman, I’d be able to safely prescribe you Mifepristone. But for omegas, we need to take into account the depth and quadrant of implantation, and the embryo implanted too deep for me to safely remove it,” she explained. “The only recommendation I can make is to carry it to term.”

Hanzo was silent again, and the doctor sat down in the other chair, next to Genji. She reached out and squeezed Hanzo’s hand gently, running her thumb across his palm.

“As your doctor, I’d say that I can only offer my medical opinion. As your godmother, I know you’re trying to make everything all right. I know you think you messed up. Don’t be hard on yourself. You didn’t do anything bad,” she said gently. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah. Hey, Hanzo, this kind of thing happens to people all the time,” Genji said, trying to be reassuring but only earning himself a baleful look from his brother. But it was the first time Hanzo had looked at him so far, so he’d take that. “Really, it’s not too rare-“

“Jesse McCree. The alpha. One of the agents we met with at the Blackwatch negotiations,” Hanzo blurted. “I think Father knows it's him- he caught us-“

If they weren’t so well-groomed, Genji’s eyebrows would have shot clean off his forehead. “From Overwatch? Is he a white guy?” he demanded, seeing an opening and diving for it.

“No! That’s not-“ Hanzo shut down quickly, and scowled, closing the lid on the topic. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled, before finally pushing his hair out of his face. “…I feel better. Thank you. I should be heading home.”

Genji shook his head. “Anija, I don’t think you want to go back there right now…”

He shook his head. “Father. The Council. They’re probably making arrangements for me right now, and I won’t be caught blindsided.” 

Dr. Kuo gave Genji a tired smile, as if to say, _Yep, that’s your brother._ “I’ll have my office process the discharge papers. In the meantime, please try to rest. Now, is there anything either of you need?” she asked.

 _A drink,_ thought Genji.

Hanzo spoke again. “Dr. Kuo?” His voice was quiet, shy, almost childish.

“Yes, Hanzo?” she asked, peering at him kindly. 

He looked away, embarrassed. “…Can I see him again?”

“Of course.” Dr. Kuo pushed the folds of the light robe aside, exposing his abdomen. Genji tried not to look- now that he knew his brother’s condition, it seemed inappropriate, somehow. But curiosity drew his stare sideways, and there it was- a slight protrusion, Hanzo’s stomach just a little bit swollen to be passed off as food or drink. At this stage, it was still easy to miss, even knowing what to look for. Genji felt a bit of relief knowing that it hadn’t just been him being as unobservant as Hanzo.

The doctor changed her gloves and squeezed out more gel onto the probe, before skillfully angling it over Hanzo’s abdomen, pressing in slightly. “And… We’re… Ah, here we go.”

The ultrasound screen flickered as the roughest shape of a baby came into focus- a large round head, a jellybean of a body, but distinctly, tiny little legs. From the way Hanzo had been drifting away this last year, Genji had expected his older brother to shoo him out of the room. Instead, still avoiding looking at Genji, Hanzo pointed at the screen numbly, as through the noise of the screen, the white blob in a black sack appeared again.

“Look,” he said simply, his eyes glued to the screen in wonder, as if there wasn’t a hurricane brewing back at home. “Look.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Past, Gabriel**

Reyes opened the door and prayed to God that he was hallucinating, because was either that or acknowledge that yes, Jesse McCree was indeed buck naked in bed with Isamu Shimada's son.

The boys were entwined together on top of the blankets, their bodies pressed close like kittens in a litter, trying to rub every possible inch of bare skin against each other. And if that Shimada boy wasn’t just the happiest little omega in the world. The crimelord’s son was a sweet-looking thing when he actually smiled, his face relaxed in pure bliss as he rubbed his nose along the crook of McCree’s neck, where the scent of the alpha was the heaviest. He occasionally paused to croon and kiss the edge of the other boy’s mouth. From the doorway, Reyes could hear them humming to each other in long, low notes- a love song bubbling up from the shadowed instincts scribed in their DNA. 

_Well, fucking shit. Fucking, fucking, shit._ The Blackwatch commander took a deep breath, trying to hold together a calm, collected, and not utterly murderous demeanor. Behind him, Isamu approached from the hallway. “I understand this isn’t the most professional situation, but it shouldn’t impact-“

“ _Hanzo!_ ” the elder Shimada croaked, his voice pitching in shock.

The entire atmosphere snapped, as if a lightning bolt had struck the room. Hanzo jerked back, knocking aside McCree’s chin with a loud crack. The boy went slack-jawed disbelief, the honey-soft haze gone from his face and replaced with abject terror. McCree was a little slower on the uptake, but barely. He reacted only on instinct, crouching protectively over Hanzo and baring his teeth in a threat display. 

“Close that mouth!” Reyes barked, stomping forward and throwing McCree aside by a shoulder. The young alpha snarled as he was torn away from his lover, but Reyes held him down with one hand. “Shut it!”

“Hanzo-“ McCree cried out, struggling. “Darlin’- _darling-_ “

Isamu croaked something in Japanese. White-faced, Hanzo hurriedly stood and fumbled for his clothes, tying his pleated pants with the same precision as preparing his weapons for a fight.

“Hanzo,” McCree wailed, stumbling to his feet and jerking out of Reyes’s grip, throwing himself after the Japanese boy. 

But Hanzo turned around and gave him a strange look- not a cold one, but a powerful one, a stare like a storm bearing down a cay. 

McCree stopped, trembling. Slowly, fat, sticky tears began collecting on the pink of his eyelid. He gazed, distraught, after the Shimada boy. “Dove,” he moaned, choking on a sob, “Babe. Darling- Hanzo…”

Hanzo shook his head three, four, times, deliberate and slow. Without looking back, he walked away from the shaking cowboy, towards Isamu. Their silence hung heavy in the air as father and son exited the room.

The door didn't even have a chance to close before Reyes clipped McCree over his stupid, stupid face- hard. "What the fuck was that? Are you insane? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Are you an idiot? How much of an idiot are you? God! Dumbass! What the fuck? What the fuck?"

McCree grabbed the front of Reyes's coat and stared up pleadingly, tears and snot rolling down his face. "Reyes- Boss- you can send me to jail but please, oh my God, please, let me go see him- just one more time, I promise, just once, just let me see him again-"

"Ugh- put on your pants!" Reyes barked, shoving the boy away. 

"Please, I can beg if y’want! Please, please just let me go see Hanzo-" McCree began, clutching at his commander’s sleeve. “Hanzo-“ his voice shook, breaking into ragged sobs.

Goddamnit. So that's what he had his panties in a knot about. This was not the young man who'd laughed him down in the interrogation room, who'd shrugged and egged him on every time Reyes brought the folding chair down over his ribs. This was not the spitfire who tried to bargain in a pack of cigarettes with his get-out-of-jail-free card. "I don't want you in prison, that'd be a waste of my time. Shut up. You're not going to jail but there will. Be. Consequences."

”Just once, j-just let me see him- I don’t have to touch him, I swear, please, just let me go to him-“ the boy babbled, tears streaking down his face. 

"Shut up," Reyes grumbled uncomfortably, trying not to look at his agent’s sticky, wet face. The kid tried to bolt again, yanking the his arm. McCree wasn't listening to punishment and wasn't calming down, so he tried a different approach. "You think this is about you? You saw that old man. You just made that omega's life a helluva lot harder." 

If anything, it only made McCree bawl even harder. "T-Then let me g-g-go say sorry, I'm so sorry- oh God Reyes, j-just let me go see-"

“Did you hear a thing I fucking said?“ The commander inhaled and exhaled, trying to control his anger and not beat his newest recruit into a bloody pulp on the hotel wall. "Come on, dumbass, get yourself together! Stop acting like a baby!" This was the kind of crying that Reyes absolutely did not know how to deal with. He wished Jack were here. Jack was good at dumb shit like this. Awkwardly, he patted McCree's shoulder, more of a desire to get him to shut up than to actually comfort him. 

It was another eight minutes before McCree's wailing tapered down to erratic sobs. The boy still looked longingly at the door, hiccuping the occasional "Hanzo.. Hanzo..." But at least he wasn't screaming his head off anymore.

"Yes, McCree, I know you like that boy, now you have to tell me-" He slammed his hands on McCree's shoulders like he was trying to push him back into the ground where he belonged. He glared right into the boy's sticky, wet face and swollen, red eyes. "What. Did. You. Do."

"Bluhh?" 

Reyes gave his shoulders a shake. "What did you do. With Shimada's son. You were just-" he waved a hand at the mess of a blanket- "You only ever- ugh, cuddled- him this once, right?" 

McCree started snotting all over again. "P-Please, let me go, h-he needs me-"

"Not until you tell me how much shit we're in!" Reyes barked in his face. "What did you two do?!"

"W-We kissed and held hands-"

He wished Jack or Ana were here so someone would have to suffer with him. "Uh-huh," Reyes said, keeping his stare and trying to pretend like McCree was giving crucial mission information and not being a complete kindergartener over this.

"W-We snuck out to the pier- 's- 's a date-" ," McCree croaked out hoarsely, trying to look away, but Reyes grabbed his chin and forced him to stare the older man dead-on. 

"Uh-huh."

"T-Took a walk a-at night and t-told him I- I love him-" 

This was getting nowhere but awkward. "How long has this shit been going on?"

"T-Two weeks- I-I snuck out past Kubat- jailbreaked my comm-”

"Two weeks." Goddamn, that long? For all the kid was a lovesick idiot, he was a damn competent one. Reyes made a mental note to start him on espionage as soon as they got back. 

"Y-Yeah- But he loves me- he said-“

"I don't care, dumbass. Did you.. How far did you go?"

McCree stared at him, so Reyes gave him another hard shake.

"Did you. Fuck. Him."

“…Ss.”

Another rattle. ”Did you put your cock up his hole?"

"...Yes." 

Oh God. Reyes felt his blood go cold. What had the kid gotten himself into? "Little Shimada better be ready to lie and lie goddamn well to his old man," he muttered. What was that boy going to do? Still, it wasn't all lost- yet. Even McCree wasn't stupid enough to- _Oh no._ Reyes yanked him forward again- sure enough, there it was below the smudge of bruises and scars, a little fresh bitemark just the right size to have come from the Shimada boy's teeth. "You knotted him. _You knotted him_!?"

"It was only a few times!" McCree protested. "Y-You don't think his father's gonna-"

"Kill him? Oh, I don't know. I don't know, but if the Shimada Clan decides to not go in on Daegu-" Reyes threw his arm forward, wrapped his hands around McCree's face and slamming the boy against the wall behind him. "Believe me, I will kill _you._ "

 

 

**Previous, Genji**

Tuesday was a gray sky and a chill in the air when he saw Hanzo off at the train station. Genji dressed to banish the blues, trying to cut through the severity of the occasion with the most ridiculous neon he could find- stripes down his track jacket, spots over his shirt, jagged lightning bolts over his leggings. Even Genji recognized that it was a bit much. Maybe a bit out-there. Hideous, his older brother had called it, but he had laughed, hadn’t he?

Hanzo, on the other hand, was subdued in a plain gray suit, thin-lapeled and without a tie. He looked put-together, despite the circumstances, but then again, he always did. The straight-cut blazer hid any sign of the pregnancy- for all intents and purposes, he was just a young man taking a pleasure trip for some fresh air. Behind him, Mr. Kawasaki, Father’s most trusted man, minded a large leather trunk as he waited to escort Hanzo on the train.

“Bye-bye, bro,” Genji said in a small voice. He wasn’t sure why he felt lonely already- his brother hadn’t even left yet. 

“Don’t stay out so late. Study harder.” Hanzo reached out, adjusting Genji’s elastic cuffs with a firm hand. “I will be in touch once I arrive.”

“I’ll send you lots of Korupiko,” Genji offered. “Do you want anything from home?”

Hanzo gave him a small smile at the concern, his eyes half-lidded and warm. “I’m not leaving forever. I’ll be back soon. Less than half a year until- until I can return.” The unsaid clung to his syllables: until he was rid of the baby. 

It had been decided, by Father and by the Elder Council: under the guise of leaving for a sabbatical, Hanzo would carry the _nullius filius_ in secret, deliver it, and return alone. A suitable adoptive family had been secured for the unborn child already, a couple on the opposite side of Japan, who would know nothing of its identity nor its origins. In return, neither Genji nor Hanzo would know anything of them. Only Grand-Uncle knew where Hanzo’s baby was going, and by the looks of it, the old man was fully intending to take that secret to the grave with him.

Genji stuck his fingers through the thumbholes on his sleeve. He looked up at his brother, but Hanzo had slipped his professional face back on, all stone eyes and unforgiving expression. “I’ll come visit.” 

“You don’t have to,” Hanzo informed him. “You have a lot of work. I’d be surprised if you could find the time.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just hit the arcade a little less!”

“Use the time to study instead.” Despite his admonition, his eyes crinkled in a slight smile. 

“Fine- after exam month,” Genji promised. “See you then?”

Mr. Kawasaki cleared his throat loudly. “Young master. It is eleven forty-five.” 

Hanzo nodded, glancing at the clock up against the clear blue sky. “See you in a while,” he said, turning away from Genji and towards the waiting train and its private boarding area.

“Anija?"

He stopped, looking back. “Yes, Genji?”

Genji sighed. No matter what he thought to say, he could already hear Hanzo’s deliberate command of ‘work hard’ in reply. “Nothing, brother. I’ll see you.”

Hanzo scowled, looking at the ground. “See you,” he said, striding towards the train. Perhaps it was a trick of the muddled sunlight, but he looked almost disappointed.

 

* * *

"You should not have come."

It was too beautiful a day for such harsh words. Genji stuck his tongue out at his brother from his seat in the sun-warmed grass, idly picking apart a feathery seed head. “And you shouldn’t be doing martial arts.” 

Hanzo's hakama was tied lower than usual, to accommodate his filling womb. Beneath the folds of his top, his stomach had begun swelling hard and round over the low waistline. "Pregnant, not disabled. If you're going to stand there, be productive. You can use my spare bow." 

Genji rolled his eyes and trotted over to the pile of gear. He picked up a weapon to appease his brother, but didn't take a quiver. "C'mon, I came out here to see you."

Hanzo turned around, spreading his arms. "You see me. I am in good health, aside from... I am working on keeping my mind at peace. You can go report back to Father that."

"Nuh-uh, Hanzo, I actually, you know, came to see you? Myself?" he snorted.

"To do what?" 

"Just to see you. I miss you."

Hanzo quickly looked away. “How’s the Yamada case?” he asked.

“Feels weird not having you grumping around on me,” Genji continued stubbornly. I mean, even when you started high school, at least you were… You. Around. Y’know.”

“I was told you are going to take over for me on the Yamadas. I left my notes and record for you in the cloud.”

Genji sighed, tossing a hand in the air. “I came here to visit you, and you just want to ask me about work stuff. I’m here, man!”

"What else is there to ask about?" Hanzo loosed another arrow. It hit the outside ring, a sure sign that the elder brother’s mind was not anywhere near ‘at peace.’

“Um, literally anything? How are you feeling? What’s it like to be having a baby?” He pushed a hair through his hair, dark roots showing up against the fresh green, before giving a mischievous smile. “…The alpha, what was he like? Is he cute?” Genji knew his own type pretty well- pretty much anyone who wouldn't be too out-of-place on a teen magazine cover. The thought that his brother even liked people in the first place had never occurred to Genji. What did the alpha look like, at least? Probably one of those blonde-haired blue-eyed boys, straight from the pages of Seventeen.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hanzo said shortly. The next arrow missed the circle.

Genji grinned at the flush slowly rising over his brother’s nose. “I heard Americans have really big dicks. Did he have a big one-“

"Why are you talking to me about this?" Hanzo growled, shooting and missing the target entirely. "It's uncomfortable."

“C’mon, we're brothers," Genji wheedled, gesturing with the empty bow. 

"That's exactly why we won't talk about this." 

"You're my older brother, you're supposed to tell me how to do stuff."

Hanzo scoffed. "And clearly I am doing things correctly," he replied. Despite his harsh words though, Hanzo put a gentle hand on the swell of his stomach- almost fondly, really.

Genji laughed. “Well, if you think about it like biology-“

”Besides, you've never listened to me before."

The summer air suddenly felt clammy on his temples. Genji stopped, his bow halfway into position. "What?"

"You never listen to-"

He dropped his hand angrily, feeling the cut of the bow through the air. "No, I heard what you said, but what? How can you say that? I always-" Genji swallowed. "I do listen. Mostly."

"Two percent of the time. The rest of the time you-"

"...I mean, I broke up with Yumi," he said quietly. “Like you all said to.”

"You still don't realize she was just a gold digger?" Hanzo snorted.

Genji stared at his brother, anger rising up in his throat. “She was _not._ She was _not_ a gold digger.“ 

“See what I mean?” Hanzo said accusingly as he brought the bow and arrow up to shoot again. “You never listen.” 

“ _I_ listen, _you_ don’t!”

“I don’t need to listen to _you.”_

_“_ Well, I don’t need to listen to you either! You’re not Father, so stop acting like-“

“I _will_ be!” Hanzo snapped hotly, sending an arrow flying and missing the target completely. 

The peace in the summer air was gone, and the two brothers scowled, glaring at the general area around each other.

Genji sighed tiredly. Hanzo never tried to make amends, even if he thought he was in the wrong- which was rare enough as is. The task had always fallen to Genji, again, and again, and again. This time was no exception. “Maybe you want to take a break. I think you’re getting tired,” he suggested, trying to find a way out of the meadow that left both brothers’ prides intact.

“Archery,” Hanzo spat, “helps me to keep my mind at peace.” The arrow grazed the edge of the wooden target and buried itself in the dirt yards away.

“Yep. Because you’re ‘at peace.’” Genji scowled, flopping over on the grass. “Totally.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until autumn, when the maple trees began to take on a fade of orange and the air settled chilly at night, that he saw Hanzo again. 

Genji had arrived at night, half a day earlier than expected, to join his brother after dinner. But leave it to Hanzo to insist on making the extra time as productive as possible.

The moment his dishes and pillbox had been cleared away by a short omnic servant, he spread a few magazines out on the table in front of Genji. “Let’s practice your English.”

“C’mon!” Genji protested, finishing up the last few bites of his cheesecake. “I’m on break.”

“Yeah, so might as well do something useful in the meantime.” Hanzo pulled out his spreadsheet binder, but stood up, wincing and supporting his back with a hand before sitting down again. The cause was obvious- his abdomen had swelled out, ripening like the pumpkins and the squash of the season, heavy and round, pushing the front of his robe out beyond his frame and forcing his back to bend against it. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best time to argue. “Hanzo, that’s literally the opposite of a break…” Genji complained, but reached for one of the magazines at random- a travel one as indicated by the colorful scene on its glossy cover, and flipped it open. He eyes swayed from the foreign text to the photo spread its as laid on. A night scene, of something that looked like a bustling beachside market or festival, lit up by hundreds of shops and a packed crowd along the wide road. As the centerpiece, a ferris wheel, a gargantuan neon eye suspended in the night sky below the title. “Hey, this place looks like it’s probably awesome.”

“Keep reading and maybe you’ll find out.” Hanzo ran his pen down a page, pausing only to scribble and tick the sides of the paper. 

“Probably like a summer festival, but cooler,” he continued stubbornly.

This time, Hanzo’s pen stopped as he replied. ”No, it's not like the summer festival. It's louder. People are ruder. …You'd like it.”  

"Yeah, like you'd know," Genji replied, gazing at the glossy page longingly. 

Hanzo put out a hand to stop Genji from turning the page. He gazed at the whirl of color and light through through the fish-eye photo, as if searching for something, before making a confession. "On the last trip. I went there with the alpha."

"To the Bay Boardwalk? No way!" Genji jerked the magazine back, scanning the pages. "With the ferris wheel and all?"

"The line was too long. We didn't ride it.” 

Genji tried to imagine the boardwalk at night, bright with electric lights and bustling with the young crowd. He had been to the ocean before, remembered the smell of the saltwater and the way the cool offshore winds moistened his face. He tried to imagine the smell of the boardwalk- bodies, food roasting along the street- different food than in the shops here, he figured. None of the sweet charcoal smell or the musk of sesame oil of a Hanamura festival. What would a street full of American food smell like? Vinegar and ketchup? Steak and burnt sauce? "Was it big?"

"Very. There were many stands. We stayed out until three and did not see the whole place. Perhaps we would have covered more ground, but the alpha-" Hanzo cut himself off, and bullishly turned the page. "It was crowded. Very loud. ...You would like it, Genji. It is more your thing than mine."

"Sounds like a lot of fun,” Genji sighed as Hanzo flipped the page to a close-up of a wizened, brown lady dancing behind the counter of a taco stand. 

"Fun. It was fun." Hanzo looked down at his lap, his brow wry in confusion. “…Yes.”

He knew better to try to pry out an explanation when his brother had his thinking face on. Genji turned his attention back to the magazine, sounding out the English words. "Mrs. Jwan... Behind the rekeep are sparking woman..." He squinted. It didn't sound right. "What's a rekeep?"

"Recipe," Hanzo corrected, more brusque than usual. He was scowling at his phone screen now, his brow heavy and eyes dark with rage. "It's stupid," he scoffed. 

“Yeah, it is! How the heck did you get 'recipe' from this word?" Genji protested, but his brother wasn't listening.

"...It's stupid. The hormones are trying to force me to miss the alpha. I won't let them."

"Hey, that's not how hormones work." Genji leaned forward, but Hanzo quickly jerked back, shutting the phone screen off. "I think you actually miss him."

"I don't. It's the hormones. Biology. Not psychology.” 

"Are you looking at his photo?" 

"I do not miss him," Hanzo said hoarsely.

Genji made a grab for the phone. "C'mon, let me see, I won't tell anyone if he's really ugly!"

"No! And he's very handsome," he snapped. 

"Prove it."

"No."

"I bet he's ugly." Genji grinned. "That's why you're embarrassed. 'Cause you got an ugly alpha." 

For a moment, it seemed that Genji had won. Hanzo gazed at his phone for a few seconds, and turned on the screen. But before he could unlock it though, he turned it off again and stuffed it greedily in his pocket. "No," he scoffed and pushed the magazine back. "Keep reading."

Genji rolled his eyes and turned the page. “Beside the ocean, the… The…”

“Culinary,” Hanzo stated, glancing over quickly at the article.

“Culinary. A destination for those willing to look beneath its rough-and-ready reputation for gourmet-“

“Gour- _may.”_

“But it has a T at the end!” he protested.

“The word is Fre- Oh.” Hanzo let out a pained grunt, his hand flying to his swollen abdomen.

“Anija?” Genji got up, ready to call for help, but his brother shook his head.

“No. Oh. _Oh._ I’m fine. The baby is moving,” he explained, curling his back in discomfort and rubbing his stomach harder, as if trying to calm the child down. 

“Whoa!” He scooted on his knees next to Hanzo. “Whoa, cool! Hey, can I feel it?” Genji extended a hand forward, only to have it swatted away. 

“No! That’s weird! Don’t be weird,” Hanzo complained. 

He pouted. “It’s not weird! It’s normal stuff, c’mon, I want to feel!”

“It _is_ weird, and no.” Hanzo set his lips in a stern line, but his glare was interrupted by another wince. “I get no sleep. Maybe boys jump around more,” he groaned.

_A boy._ Genji regarded his brother warily. “You’re having a boy?”

Caught, Hanzo scowled and turned away, silent.

But Genji wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily. “I thought you didn’t want to know. Y’said you didn’t care,” he pressed. 

“I don’t!” Hanzo protested, eyes angry. 

“You do-“

“No.” He cut Genji off with a sharp wave of his hand, nearly jabbing his pen into his own shoulder. “I do not actually care about the child. If I cared, I wouldn’t…“ he sighed and shrugged, stabbing his pen down at his notebook as he wrote. “I should be grateful the child goes to a good home. I should be glad. It will have a happy life,” he stated, even as his fingers pressed into the side of his stomach. 

“Anija, uh…” _I can talk to Father. No, there’s no way Father’s gonna.. Wait, Aunt Kaori always takes my side! But she’s not that senior…_ Genji’s mind raced, regretting never having involved himself with the clan politics. “…You know… Maybe it could be like… A back-up heir?” he suggested. “Like… Hey, you have to have an heir someday anyways, so might as well-“

“Keep reading,” Hanzo barked. “Finish the article.”

Genji gnashed his teeth in frustration. “I’m trying to help you!”

“You’re not.”

“Yeah, I am! Look, someone’s gotta do the shit that _you_ won’t,” Genji accused. “Even if you always come back and bite them in the ass for it-“

“That’s not what the article says,” Hanzo snapped, breathing harder, his cheeks and neck flushing.

Genji slammed the magazine down in frustration. “The west had has begun its transformation from a parking lot to a wide beachside walk and a town square, and is not projected to open for another three years. So in the meantime, I swung by to visit the historic Carmel Plaza nearby.” He glared at his brother, but Hanzo’s face didn't return his anger, as he spoke again.

“He was never even mine to lose in the first place.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm a bit blown away by the positive reception. I know it's a bit of a strange subject so I wasn't expecting that on a ABO fic! Thank you for all your comments and kudos.
> 
> Finally some McHanzo. And Genji, in his own way, having to pick up the slack for Hanzo in their relationship.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Graphic birth scene towards the end. If you want to skip it, it starts at (It was a scene from a horror movie.) and ends at (“Oh- gross!” Genji exclaimed, wincing as he caught his first glimpse of his nephew.)

**Further Past, Naoko**

Though her heart ached, Naoko smiled. She pushed a stray lock of hair from her son’s face, and stroked his hair gently, warmly.

He was five- an intelligent, inquisitive five, clever enough to pick up on exactly the things he wasn’t supposed to. He’d seen right through two surprise beach trips, a birthday present, and every pill she tried to disguise in his favorite strawberry mousse. But now, she prayed that this time, this one last deception, would hold. 

"Do you love Mama, Hanzo?" she asked.

Hanzo nodded.

"Do you love Little Brother?" 

Hanzo nodded so vigorously his cheeks shook.

"Good. Mama is happy." 

"Ma'm," the guard called out, arching his head from the doorway. "Your car is here."

"I know. I'm coming," she barked, trying to hold onto her calm expression. She rallied, smiling like she was about to take him to the Tanabata festival downtown. "Listen to me."

Her little son knelt quickly into a perfect seiza, his hands resting on his small, chubby thighs and his eyes shining up at her. So professional. So obedient. She felt a twin strange surge of anger and relief- at least he would never know defiance. At least he would never have to face, head-on, the wrath of the Elder Council. 

Naoko knelt in front of him as well. She picked him up and set his warm weight on her lap, bending over to touch their foreheads. "Why is tomorrow an important day?"

"There is a cowherd, and the birds make a bridge, and he and the weaving girl can meet in the Milky Way," he recited diligently. 

"Yes! That's right. Now, tomorrow, when the birds make a bridge with their wings, Mama is going to go up to the Milky Way with them."

Hanzo accepted this with a curious nod. "Why?"

"Everyone goes up to the Milky Way one day. I'm just going first, but I'll meet you there later. You and Genji and Papa will go too." Hopefully not anytime soon, she thought. "So? What happens tomorrow?" she drilled him.

"The birds make a bridge for the cowherd and the weaving girl. Mama is going to the Milky Way. ..I have to share my taiyaki with Genji because he more little."

"And because you love him," she chided. "He is your little brother, and you are his big brother. You only have each other."

"And Mama," Hanzo corrected her. 

Naoko tried to hold up her smile. "Yes. And Mama. In the Milky Way."

"Ma'm," the guard repeated.

"Mama loves you very much." She pulled her son up, hugging him tightly. “Mama loves you. Remember that.” Hanzo was small and warm in her arms, and it only truly sunk in then, that this would be her last moment with her child. “Mama loves you and Genji.”

“Ma’m.”

Naoko pressed a kiss to Hanzo’s forehead and rose, turning her face quickly so that her son would be left with her smile. She held her head steady as she followed her escort outside, to a sleek black car. 

“The council is waiting for you at your trial,” he said, opening the car door for her to get in.

“I don’t know why you keep calling it that,” she said sardonically.

The guard didn’t respond. Instead, he went to sit in the back seat of the car, continuing to watch her. 

As the driver next to her started the engine and turned out onto the road, Naoko inhaled deeply and held it, trying to still the grief roiling deep inside her. She missed her sons, already. Her home. Her parents in Osaka. She longed heavily for them all. But not for Isamu, that coward. He didn't deserve any more of her remaining time. Still, a twinge of loss melted through her. There was love all right- her love for her husband was still there. But respect? Certainly not. If he wouldn’t fight for her or their children, he didn’t deserve any of them. 

But her boys. Genji was just a baby- not old enough by half to understand. Perhaps he wouldn’t even remember her, when she grew- and Naoko didn’t know whether or not to be relieved or rueful of the fact. But Hanzo… He’d realize she was gone. He would, sooner than she preferred. And when he did, she already knew the lines along which his little heart would break.

Perhaps he would understand one day, why she had to leave. Perhaps he wouldn’t. 

Outside the window as the well-kept, identical sets of trees whizzed by, on the way to what would be her execution ground. There was nothing left to do. The hard part was over. Her breathing was oddly calm, still and quiet in her chest, even as her heart wrenched again, and again. It was not what lay ahead she dreaded, but what she had just left behind. 

But if her sons would never have to know the pain of such a loss, then her work here was done. 

 

**Previous, Genji**

The first snow of the season had barely melted away in the morning sun when Genji arrived again, at the meadow where Hanzo had set up a target range for the duration his stay.

“Mornin’ bro,” he said as he thumped by in his cold weather boots. It was the gray-brown time between autumn and winter. Enough of the month had passed to wilt the grassy hills, but the frost had not quite set on the land yet.

“Genji.” Hanzo’s eyes slid sideways to regard his brother, before he focused on the targets in front of him again. The child rounding out his midsection had grown too big for him to fit the standard uniform, so this month, underneath his thick wool over cloak, his sash was tied high, above his swollen abdomen and almost directly under his chest. He exhaled and let the arrow fly. 

It was a beautiful shot, clean and devastatingly powerful. Genji opened his mouth to congratulate his brother, but Hanzo reached back into his quiver and loosed two more of the perfect shots.

"Hey, your archery's gotten really good!"

Hanzo scowled. "It had better. I haven't been able to do any training besides stand shoot all day.”

"Yeah, but you got another two months of this, you're gonna be a master," 

“I am falling behind on everything else,” Hanzo complained. 

Genji rolled his eyes. Leave it to Hanzo to turn everything into a negative. “You know, snipers get paid pretty well in the field, maybe you can take that up. I don’t think being a sniper is so bad. You can just wear sweatpants all day and no one’ll ever know ‘cause they don’t see you.”

Hanzo tried to scowl, but couldn’t hide his grin. “How is Father?” he asked.

“Stressed as usual. So, basically, no change.” 

“Perhaps he would not be as stressed if you helped out more.”

Genji shrugged, brushing off his brother’s reproach. “Why? You’ll be back soon. Besides, it’s not like I can do anything right ever,” he replied breezily. 

“That isn’t true.” Hanzo shot the target again. “…You _do_ have your own talents. Just that you never seek to hone them-“

Genji gave an exaggeratedly dramatic gasp as he hopped over his brother. “What? Hanzo Shimada, complimenting me?” he exclaimed, trying to hide his pleasure as he put his chin on Hanzo’s shoulder. 

“No! I called you lazy!” Hanzo argued back, trying to shove off his brother’s head but to no avail.

“Oo, aren’t you flattering me!” Genji said cheekily, stepping back and chuckling. 

“No!” Hanzo scowled, distracted as he shot another arrow. Still, it flew true, straight up to the center of the target. “I’ll flatter you when there is cause for flattery. Right now, there isn’t!”

“You’re weird,” he replied, the penultimate sibling comeback.

His brother whirled around, aiming the bow at him, lips pursed, and pretended to release an invisible arrow straight at Genji. He stopped and rolled his eyes at Genji’s dramatic puppy dog eyes, though. “Just kidding.”

“You could try! But I’d beat you anyways,” Genji replied. “Also, Dr. Kuo says I’m still growing, so I’m probably gonna be taller than you eventually too.”

Hanzo scoffed aloud, laughing at sheer thought. “One- I wouldn’t. Two- you won’t- and three- Three? No way, _shirasu,_ ” he replied, before turning back to the targets, still shaking his head. “You are ridiculous.” 

Genji chuckled as well, sitting down on the cold ground and purposefully propping his muddy feet up on Hanzo’s gear bag. “Yep. That I am.”

 

* * *

 

 

The frost on the windows and the dim glow of the sparse lights outside were the only indications that winter raged on outside the bright, well-heated house. Genji turned away from his view of the whirl of snowflakes and wind, and treaded down the hall to Hanzo’s bedroom.

His visit this time had just been a day trip. To spend as much time with his brother as he could, Genji had held off until the very last train to Hanamura was scheduled to arrive. But it was time for one last good-bye until next time.

“Anija?" Backpack in hand, Genji cracked the bedroom door open. A single line of light fell in from the hallway onto the bed in the middle of the room, rounding over Hanzo’s form under the blanket. “Hey,” he said quietly, tiptoeing in. “You awake?”

“Yes.” Hanzo’s voice was strangely thick. 

Genji came to kneel beside the bed, resting his elbows in the crisp white sheets as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “What’s wrong?”

"My back hurts. That's all. I'm fine. Go catch your train," he whispered hoarsely. 

"I'll take tomorrow's train." Genji tossed off his jacket and, uninvited, crawled on the bed and under the covers, flush up against Hanzo. He leaned forward, resting his head between his brother's shoulder blades. He couldn't remember the last time they had been so close, warm and secure. They had slept like this, curled up against each other, as children, but Hanzo got his own room in middle school while Genji stayed behind in their old room. Still, this was how he had grown up, with his forehead tucked against Hanzo's back, breathing in the comforting family-scent from his neck as they slept. He turned in to this familiarity again, warm and drowsy like coming home after a long flight. "I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well get some sleep."

It was a long and silent while before Hanzo finally replied. “…Thank you,” he said so quietly that Genji almost mistook it for a rough exhalation. In his brother’s embrace, Hanzo settled comfortably, his breathing slowing and evening out. 

Genji didn’t reply. Instead, he reached over and wrapped an arm around Hanzo, trying to hold him soft and safe. It had always been him huddled against Hanzo during the monsoon season’s lightning storms, but now it was his turn to be that shelter and comfort. As he changed position, his arm slipped, bumping his palm against Hanzo’s stomach. “Ah, sorry-“

Hanzo didn’t flinch though. With the tacit permission, Genji rested his hand against the hard swell of his brother’s abdomen, feeling for the child growing within. His nephew- and how peculiar it felt to use that phrase!- was as much a stranger as the alpha who had fathered it. But unlike the alpha, it was present here. He could feel its movement, the occasional bump and jab against his palm, under the warm layer of Hanzo’s skin. “Does it hurt?” he asked curiously, as the child nudged hard against his palm. 

“It isn’t comfortable.”

“Yeah, doesn’t feel like it.”

Hanzo chuckled tiredly. “This is why I can’t sleep,” he complained. “Always kicking and rolling around. At night too, I can never…” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard. “I want my alpha.”

Not knowing how to reply, Genji hugged him harder, burying his face in the nape of his brother’s neck comfortingly. “What’s he like?”

Hanzo took several moments before speaking again. “Loud,” he replied. “He smoked a lot. He laughed a lot. He plays the guitar.” 

“Sounds like a cool guy.”

“You would like him,” Hanzo said longingly. “I wish…”

Genji waited for him to continue, but Hanzo fell silent. 

“You could have been friends,” he said finally. 

“Yeah.” 

In the darkness, Hanzo shifted, pressing his back against Genji, seeking closeness. 

Genji responded in turn, hugging his brother in tighter. “Go to sleep,” he whispered. “And I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Hanzo didn’t reply, only settled in close and exhaled. It wasn’t long before his breathing deepened into sleep, his chest rising and falling in the darkness. Genji sighed as well, his heart aching in some strange way. “Ah… I’ve missed you, bro,” he whispered quietly. 

He had thought Hanzo was asleep, and was startled when he heard the softest response.

“I’ve missed you too.”

 

* * *

 

The next time he visited, Hanzo did not come out to greet him. Instead, it was Rina the junior nurse who met him in the snow at the front gate.

“Hey, Rina! Good morning! So… Where’s my brother?” Genji asked.

Rina hesitated before replying. “He is feeling a bit tired today,” she informed him. “But don’t worry! He’s fine, just on bedrest. Dr. Fukuda spoke with you earlier, right?”

“Yeah, on the phone.” He shrugged, running a hand through his black and green hair. “It sounded serious, but isn’t this a medical thing? I think the doctor’s a little more qualified than me.”

“The Young Master has already refused Dr. Fukuda’s advice,” Rina said tactfully.

Genji sighed. “Look, I’ll try talk to him, but it’s not like I’m expecting it to work or anything.” 

“Still, we’d appreciate your effort,” she said encouragingly, unlocking the gates with her security card and letting him inside. 

This time, the nurse led him directly to Hanzo’s bedroom, instead of the living room or the parlor. 

“Come in.”

The bedroom had been converted into a hospital room. Several machines and monitors clustered around the bed, sending wires to each other and to Hanzo, where he lay in the white sheets, a flat book in his hands. 

“Afternoon!” Genji greeted him, more chipper than he actually felt. Someone- probably not Hanzo himself- had half-heartedly put up some holiday spirit the room. It wasn’t time for the Shougatsu decorations yet, but a wreath of gold branches and silver pine hung on the door. A line of beaded snowflakes dangled in front of the window, catching the light as they turned in the winter sun. 

“You look well,” Hanzo said, studying Genji’s face. He reached up, brushing the pads of his fingers across Genji’s chin, probably dusting off some crumbs from his snack. 

“Can’t say the same for you, bro.” He had thought Hanzo was getting big last time, but his final weeks of pregnancy made him look turgid enough to explode. His abdomen ballooned up from the rest of his lean, wiry body. Hanzo had always been well-built, broad-shouldered and muscled, but now his frame looked diminished, as if it had fed its sturdiness and vitality to the child it was growing. 

Genji looked at the book- it was in English, a picture book with a familiar picture on the cover. “Hey! _Come Over To My House?_ ” he exclaimed. “I remember that book.”

“Our first English book,” Hanzo reminisced, as his brother came to sit by him on the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight.

“You always said it was Mother’s favorite. You’re reading to the baby?” Genji asked curiously. 

“Who knows if he will have good English tutors in the future. I’m trying to do what I can,” Hanzo said defensively. 

“I can’t believe it. You’re already trying to give it-“ he grinned jokingly, raising his fingers in air quotations, “a competitive edge. He’s not even born yet!”

“Never too soon to start.” 

“God. You sound just like Father,” Genji whined.

Hanzo laughed at that, before turning to look at his brother with a pensive expression. “You know… Dr. Fukuda wants to induce me,” he said off-handedly.

“Oh. Why? Don’t you have another seven weeks?” Genji asked, trying to feign surprise.

Hanzo hesitated, tapping his fingers along the polished wood of the bed frame. “I do. But he is worried that my body is not mature enough to sustain this for much longer.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re not developed all the way, as an omega. Makes sense, like… With… Hypertension and high-output cardiac failure and stuff like-“

“The doctor asked you to talk to me, didn’t he?” Hanzo sighed.

_Oops._ Genji nodded guiltily. “Yeah… And he’s got me worried too.”

“He knows there is more chance of me listening to you than him,” he chuckled. 

The statement made Genji pause. “…Really?”

“Of course. You are my brother,” Hanzo said plainly. “Still, I have already made my decision. The world is harsh. It is better for the child to have all the time it needs to prepare for it.” His fingers brushed along the stubby corner of the picture book. “Besides… I was promised forty weeks. I won’t be cheated of any of that time.” 

Genji was silent. He already knew that there was never dissuading Hanzo from something he was so set on. His brother was almost as stubborn as Genji was, after all. “I see.”

Hanzo’s eyes softened. “…Good.” He picked up the picture book again, and opened it to the page he left off on. “I am going to read aloud. Be quiet and you can listen along too.”

He knelt next to the bed obediently, and listened as his brother began to read again in English, his voice clear and with a near-perfect accent- a comforting, homey exercise in futility. No matter how much English he managed to teach the baby, the outcome would be the same. Genji sighed, trying to maintain some semblance of good cheer, at least for the holidays. _Oh, Anija... You already know what’s to come. You already do._

 

* * *

 

Genji sprinted towards the clinic area. It was too quiet in the hallway, his footsteps and ragged breaths echoing alone across the hardwood floor. Suddenly, a cry of pain ripped through the air, tinny from the distance. 

_Brother-_ Genji picked up speed, barreling towards the Hanzo’s room.

He nodded to the omnic guard at the door, barely, before slamming the door open, chest heaving from his sprint. “Has he- oh- I made it in time,” he exclaimed in relief, but the feeling was short-lived as he looked around the room. 

It was a scene from a horror movie. The room was blocked in with medical equipment and all sorts of beeping monitors, as it had been during his last visit, but in the middle of the bed, Hanzo gasped and moaned as if under torture, body straining and writhing. He bucked, and a metallic, wet smell filled the air. Genji looked downwards, towards Hanzo’s feet, where the doctor was waving a small flashlight about. A large rivulet of red fluid was making its way towards the edge of the hospital bed. “Is that blood?”

“Yes, but it isn’t uncommon for the mucosa of the birth canal to rip-“

“ _What_ rips?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll stitch and pack it after the delivery.” 

Genji stared at the doctor’s nonchalance in horror, but Hanzo wasn’t listening. 

He grabbed Genji’s arm desperately, his large palms dripping with sweat from exertion and pain. “Genji,” he rasped. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, kneeling down next to the bed. “How you doing?”

Hanzo glared at him, panting through his teeth. 

“So, you’re doing fine,” Genji said, more upbeat than he felt. 

“No, stop… It’s coming again, no- no, stop-“ Hanzo’s hand crushed Genji’s as he cried out again, bearing forward, his entire body straining and shaking. 

The senior nurse wiped a cold cloth over his forehead. “There, there, Young Master. You’re doing so good-“ she began.

“Stop- don’t talk to me!” Hanzo snapped, swatting her hand away. 

Genji whipped his head around, ready to chastise his brother, but Michiko only tutted and shook her head in a motherly sort of way. “Uh… Here, let me,” he offered, taking the cold cloths from her. Hanzo didn’t lash out when Genji dabbed gently at his temples, cleaning off the sweat dripping from his hairline. “Hey, she’s just trying to-“

“I want Jesse,” he whispered hoarsely.

Genji winced, peeved that he was calling out for the alpha who had put the child there in the first place, but squeezed his brother’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Well, he’s not here, but it’ll be okay.”

Hanzo shook his head and repeated, “I want Jesse.” 

“Yeah, but you’re going to have to make do with me.” Genji winced as Hanzo’s grip tightened, his bones grinding together. “Ouch- ouch- let go, brother!” He tried to tug his hand away, flinching in pain, but Hanzo’s hand crushed on, his mouth gaping silently as he worked and pushed. 

“Good progress,” Dr. Fukuda said finally, getting up. “He has lost a bit of blood, though, Michiko, can you hang another bag of 0.9 NS? Ah. Master Genji-“ the doctor raised his voice to be heard as Hanzo began groaning again. “We are glad you could make it. His water broke sixteen hours ago. He’s fully dilated, it shouldn’t be long now.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Genji said, before turning back to his brother. “Hey. I jumped on the train when I got your text,” he said, holding Hanzo’s hand despite his bruised knuckles. 

Hanzo’s eyes were squeezed shut, but he nodded sharply. 

“Um.” Slowly, he became aware that he was actually not sure what he was supposed to be doing here, exactly. “Hey, I’ll go get you water-“ 

“No,” Hanzo snapped, seizing Genji’s wrist, and then lowered his voice. “Don’t go, don’t…”

“Er. Okay. Then I’m not going anywhere.” Genji tried to muster up courage for the both of them. Hanzo’s rare open moments were, in a way, a gift for him, a chance to brush up against his brother behind the walls he always guarded. But Hanzo right now, in a state of sustained vulnerability, was something that unsettled Genji to the core. Hanzo yelling at him, annoyed at him, frustrated at him? All that was all in a day’s work. But Hanzo in pain? That was- _No._ Genji shook his head to clear his thoughts. He could have his apprehensions later, right now, his brother needed him. “Hey, you heard? Not going anywhere.” 

Hanzo shivered and nodded, pulling Genji’s arm even closer. Getting the message, Genji leaned in, rubbing his brother’s shoulder reassuringly. Hanzo began to pull away, but stopped and wordlessly dragged him in again, almost fearfully. “Genji, I can’t- I cannot-“

“Aww, sure you can, you can do anything, big brother! Don’t worry, go concentrate,” he said breezily, half to reassure his brother and half to stave off any pleas or questions he did not know the answer to. The response seemed to reassure Hanzo though, and he nodded gratefully, not letting go of Genji’s hand.

_Well. It’s happening._ The hours ticked by between Hanzo’s increasingly hoarse cries and Genji’s uncertain encouragements, until finally Doctor Fukuda raised a hand. “I can see the scalp. You have to stop and-“

Still gripping Genji’s wrist, Hanzo let out a long, low moan.

“No-! Young Master, stop pushing. You have to let your opening adjust-“ 

But Hanzo didn’t listen, and as the urge to push rose again, he did, only to choke and gasp, his eyes shooting open wide.

“It tore! Didn’t I tell you to stop pushing!” Dr. Fukuda snapped. “Oh well… Mediolateral perineum tear, Michiko, write that down?”

“Mediolateral tear,” she echoed, scribing down quickly in a chart. 

Hanzo screeched suddenly, his eye bulging in pain and effort.

“Okay. Good job. Just a little more. A little push,” Dr. Fukuda coaxed. “Good. Another…“ The doctor was interrupted by a wet splash and squelch. There was a moment of quiet before suddenly, a shrill newborn cry broke the into air. 

“Oh- gross!” Genji exclaimed, wincing as he caught his first glimpse of his nephew. Dr. Fukuda stood up from Hanzo’s open legs and held up something small and screaming. It was completely covered in blood, caked in what looked like parmesan cheese, its head was squashed and pointed to one side, and a slimy, purple umbilical cord trailed from its bellybutton. “Oh, gross! _Gross-_ “

Hanzo slumped back, nearly toppling Genji over with the sudden deadweight. 

Alarmed, Doctor Fukuda glanced at the vitals monitor, but exhaled in relief at the steady readings. “He’s fine. It’s common for male omegas. He will come around soon,” he said, checking the baby’s mouth and eyes. “Michiko- clamp the cord in a minute.”

Still holding his sweat-soaked brother upright, Genji stared owlishly at the baby. “What’s… What’s _wrong_ with it?” he asked weakly. 

Doctor Fukuda looked at him, puzzled. “What? Nothing. Do you mean the antibiotic eyedrops? Routine procedure, it’s no-“ Suddenly, the old man chuckled quietly, the first time Genji had ever even seen him smile. “Ah. Oh… Ahaha… Michiko?”

“This is just what newborns look like,” the nurse explained patiently, attaching two clamps to the baby’s gray umbilical cord. The infant continued screaming in high-pitched fury. “You probably looked like that when you were born too. Oh, put the Young Master down! He deserves the rest.” Michiko motioned for him to come over. “I thought you might like to do the honors?” she asked, holding up a pair of safety clippers. “Put on a pair of gloves.”

“Oh- cool!” Genji gently laid Hanzo’s still form back down on the pillow and went to the foot of the bed. He took the clippers and eyed the slippery cord. “Where do I…”

“Here. Between the clamps. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt the baby at all.”

Genji hesitated. The nurse was asking him to cut off something growing right from the baby and- yes, a quick glance to the left told him the rest of it was also attached to Hanzo, running across the plastic mat on the bed and up losing itself from sight under the hem of his robe. 

“Go on,” she coaxed. “There aren’t any nerves, he won’t feel a thing.”

Genji grit his teeth and worked the scissors through the chewy cord. It was tougher than he thought, but finally, with a spurt of dark blood the cord gave way under the blades. 

“There we go! You did it,” Michiko exclaimed as she proceeded to bundle up the baby in cloth. “Go tell your brother. I’ll go take this little one to clean up.”

He returned to the head of the bed, just as Hanzo began to stir. “Hey, bro,” he said quietly. 

Hanzo peered up at him dizzily, trying to focus his eyes. “G-Genji,” he rasped.

“You know who I am? Where you are? What century it is?” 

“Shut up Genji, you’re weird-“ Hanzo froze, sitting up. “Where is my baby?” he demanded, looking around the room frantically. 

“Just a moment- no, stay, Young Master, please lie down, the doctor needs to check to make sure the child is healthy,” Michiko insisted when Hanzo attempted to get out of bed, staring in the direction of the newborn’s cries. 

“Six pounds, three ounces, Apgar seven,” Dr. Fukuda announced from the other side of the room. “Good. This is good.” 

Genji grinned, turning back around to give Hanzo a congratulatory shoulder punch. “Hey, you hear? The doctor says it’s good-“

“Give him to me!” Hanzo snarled, trying to push himself up again.

“Wait, wait, I will fetch him,” Michiko said placatingly, hurrying to the weighing station. She quickly returned with the tiny, dusky baby, and placed it skin-to-skin where Hanzo’s robe opened on his chest. The child quickly nestled in, and comforted by the warmth, slowly quieted down. 

Even after most of the blood and mucus has been wiped off, the newborn looked like a sticky potato. Genji cringed, wondering how best to break the news to Hanzo that his baby was really ugly. 

But Hanzo didn’t seem to notice. He gaped at tiny creature in front of him, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real. He raised the baby to his face and dipped his head, pressing his nose against its forehead, then the side of its ear, and the soft black wisps of hair still wet from the womb. His chest rose powerfully as he inhaled, taking in his child’s scent. The baby mewled, and Hanzo cooed back, brushing his lips against the newborn’s skin.

“Well. Here he is,” Genji said. It was cool in a weird way, to think that this was a real live human being his brother had made from scratch. But Genji couldn't claim to understand why Hanzo was staring at the squashed-looking baby with such a dumbstruck on his face, as if the baby were the sun, moon, stars, and the entire Milky Way. 

The nurse returned from the station again, sealing a heavy cardstock envelope. “First newborn screening's clear. Results are perfect,” Michiko said. 

"He is," Hanzo murmured, running the pads of his fingers across a tiny, tiny fist. He crooned again, leaning in to brush his lips against the infant’s blotchy red skin. 

The nurse smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good job,” she congratulated, before turning and exiting the room, closing the door quietly to leave the two brothers alone with the infant. 

“He’s perfect,” Hanzo croaked again, turning to look at Genji, clearly waiting for him to agree whole-heartedly.

“Uh. Yeah. He’s… Really moist.” Genji snickered under his breath, but stuck a finger towards the baby, tapping the tiny, tiny palm with the tip of it. “Gooshie-gooshie- hey!” he exclaimed as it immediately curled its hand into a fist, grabbing his finger with surprising strength. “Hey… Lil’ buddy, let go!”

Hanzo beamed. “He is strong!” he exclaimed proudly, flushing with joy. 

“Yeah,” Genji agreed, finally pulling his finger free. Suddenly, Hanzo pulled him forward and buried his along the crook of Genji’s neck. Genji stood still, shocked, as he realized that his brother was _hugging_ him. “Hey-“

Slowly, Hanzo let go and sat back, returning his attention to the baby in his arms. He arched his neck to rub his nose against the baby’s, and smelling it again, like he couldn’t get enough of its softness. “Ah… Genji… I want time alone with him,” he requested, almost shyly.

Genji chuckled. Whatever had gotten into Hanzo, it was quite a novelty to see his stiff-lipped older brother so obviously sentimental. Boy, was Genji going to poke him with it later. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll be outside, scream if it poops on you.”

“Yes. Brother.”

Still laughing to himself, Genji made his way to the door. He was about to close it behind him when something made him turn around to peek. 

There was Hanzo lying in bed, cradling his baby in his arms, still nuzzling at its face and cheeks. His expression was unguarded- that was in and of itself a minor miracle, and he gazed at the newborn with such intensity and tenderness, Genji struggled to find a name for the look on his brother’s face, or the way he ran his fingers over the child’s lips. 

_Ah. Yes._ He nodded to himself as he came up with the word describing it. _Probably love, or something like it._

 

* * *

 

It was a few hours later that Genji followed the head nurse back into Hanzo’s room. 

His brother was in the same place on the bed, still holding the infant at his breast, hands clasped around its tiny form. The child itself was blissfully asleep against Hanzo’s bare skin, as warm and content as any happy little creature could be. 

“Young Master.” Michiko smiled as she approached, nodding at the baby. “His parents have been contacted. Dr. Fukuda spoke with them, they're very excited!" 

"Jesse?" Hanzo blurted in surprise before realizing his mistake. “Oh. Yes, that is good to hear,” he said dully, even as his arms tightened fiercely around the infant sleeping on his chest. 

“They’re already driving to the airport. Dr. Fukuda and I will meet them there, with the child.” She smiled as held out her hands towards Hanzo. “He is ready to go home.”

For a few minutes, Hanzo stared dumbly, his expression politely blank as he tried to register the meaning of her words. 

Genji stayed silent as well, clenching his fists so hard his fingernails left little half-moons on the inside of his palm.

Hanzo hesitated. He trembled, shook, his gaze darting wildly from the nurse, to Genji, to his baby. He opened his pale lips as if to say something. But in a daze, he removed the baby from his chest and placed it in the nurse’s hands. 

The newborn hiccuped, peered blearily around, and began crying, a strident and and frightened sound. But Michiko expertly swaddled the baby anyways, holding it comfortably. “Young Master- are you all right?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the desperate wails of baby.

“Yes. I am just tired.” His eyes stared blankly at the wall behind them.

“That’s understandable. Well, you can get all the rest you need now. If you need anything, let Rina know. Oh- little one. He’ll settle down soon,” Michiko chuckled over the baby’s screams, jiggling it in a grandmotherly sort of way. “What a healthy boy! We’ll let you sleep in peace, Young Master.” She bowed politely before turning around and leaving, the infant bundled for the flight ahead. The baby’s crying faded into the distance, out of hearing range. The room fell silent again. 

In the afternoon, sunlight filtered in through the window, and the ever-present sprinkling of dust motes glowed in its rays. The bare tree branches outside continued stroking a quiet rhythm in the wind, as if nothing of note had changed. 

“Anija,” Genji called out softly, his voice muted in the open space of the room.

Hanzo stared down at his empty hands, his face frozen in disbelief. “But- but my-“ He took one sharp breath, and screamed. 

The hospital bed creaked under his sudden weight as Genji dropped down next to him. Without a word, he pulled his brother in, wrapping his arms around him. “Brother,” he whispered. “Oh, Anija…”

Hanzo shuddered, as if making to push Genji away, but collapsed in on himself, shoulders hunching and shaking. Tears, years’ worth of them, poured down his face. He shook as loud sobs racked through his body, weeping as if he would break in two. 

Genji grunted in pain as Hanzo’s fingers dug into him, but made no move to pull back. “Hey-“ He couldn’t make out any of the words beneath the wretched-sounded sobs, a difficulty compounded by the fact he, or anyone for that matter, had never heard Hanzo cry before- not like this. Besides, what could he say? Only the truth, he supposed. “Aww… Anija this totally sucks, but… Doesn’t change that I’m here. Right behind you. I’ll always be.” 

When the hours wore on and the sun finally set, the automated lights came on outside the window. And eventually, Hanzo ran out of tears, even as he continued his hoarse, broken sounds. 

“‘Cause I’m your little brother.” Genji leaned his head in, exhaling slowly as he stared at the darkness outside, and the snow setting in on the windowpane. “No matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like the chapter count is up to four now oops. 
> 
> Okay I know I said last time this was the last part but I lied, there will be epilogue that will hopefully tie things up in the present, with Jesse again. But for real this time, THAT will be the end! 
> 
> Other than the epilogue, this is technically the end of the story- Hanzo messes up, Hanzo messes up even further, and Genji is trying to do his best. Their relationship survives, but we all know what happens next anyways (spoiler: fratricide). Thank you for reading and for all your comments. I’m always happy when I see the alert in my email! You got my gratitude for sticking along with me, and I hope that you enjoyed the ride.
> 
> Also, a shout-out to Rrkitosh, who translated this fic into Chinese so that that side of the McHanzo fandom can enjoy the story as well! I am glad that even if we don’t speak the same language we can still enjoy McHanzo together.


	4. Epilogue

**Present, Hanzo**

Kitaku Park was hushed and still, this late in the afternoon. It was nearly autumn, and the park was empty of its summertime children. The bush clover and the quiet stone memorials were left to the starlings and swifts. 

And them, of course.

Hanzo took a deep breath to calm himself, and looked at the man beside him again. McCree- it was easier to call him McCree- was smoking, a grimy cigar at his lips. 

They were certainly not as mismatched a pair as before, no longer the glimmering prince and the rebel boy. Now they were just two old, gray travelers finally meeting on the same road. 

McCree’s eyes slid over to meet his. The cowboy began smiling tensely, but stopped and sighed. “Hanzo… How do you say his name again?”

“Kobashi. Mitsuhiro Kobashi.”

It had been three months since Hanzo had joined Overwatch, and twenty-one years since two young boys had fallen hard and fast for each other- with matching consequences. A lot could happen in three months. Even more could happen in twenty-one years. His pride didn’t let him wonder, though.

Not for the first time, Hanzo longed for that time in the past, craved it so heavily it felt physical. He yearned for the wholehearted brother steadfastly there whenever he turned for him, the free, freckled boy who’d taken him by the hand and spirited him off to a beach full of light, and in the earliest, most formless part of his history, not a person, but the memory of being loved very much. 

Perhaps something showed in his expression, because McCree began speaking again. The cowboy hesitated for a second, adjusting his collar, but dove in with grimace. “Hey. I know you’re still adjusting. …This probably ain’t the time to put it on your plate, but I’m going go crazy here if I don’t say it.”

Hanzo regarded the cowboy suspiciously. He knew those brown eyes, even if they were drooped over with crows’ feet. Just like before, they shone with the same quiet sincerity that had captivated him years ago. “What do you need,” he grunted. 

“Hanzo, you remember way back when, when I wanted to ride the Ferris wheel? The line was long. And there I was, strung up about how I couldn’t make it a perfect night for you- remember what you said?”

“McCree.”

“That life’s got limits, no one gets to ‘perfect,’ but that shouldn’t stop us from making the most of what we’re thrown and-“

“McCree, you are talking too fast,” Hanzo snapped. “Start over again-“ 

They both startled as a young man in a plain suit stepped onto the path. He looked around for a moment, before his eyes settled on them, nervously.

“Excuse me?” 

Hanzo froze, the palpitations from his heart ripping through his whole body. Beside him, he could practically hear McCree's jaw dropping in delight. And he had every reason to- the young man was the spitting image of the cowboy, his rugged, bold features refined by Hanzo's regal ones, an irrepressible cowlick in the same place, that identical edge of a jaw-

It was him. 

For a second, rage and indignation shot through Hanzo- he had been promised his baby, his tiny sleeping little one, not this grown stranger with half his face! But as fast as his frustration, a burst of something powerful and painful twisted through him as he recognized that same child, right here in front of him, that small creature taken from his arms so long ago before it could know how much, how endlessly, it was loved, and was _still_ loved.

"Hey, howdy!" McCree exclaimed, bolting forward to wrap a beefy arm around the stranger- no, his son. There was no question about it. 

Mitsuhiro jerked in surprise, but quickly returned the hug, laughing loudly at the sudden affection. "Hello!" He had a much heavier accent than Genji, but his voice was confident.

"Oh, boy, I only found out y'existed a month ago but I ain't stopped thinking about you since then." His chest expanded as he inhaled the young man's scent, picking up the undertone marking him as a blood relative. "Oh man... You really are my kiddo..." he breathed.

Hanzo watched, unmoving, as if he were just a spectator on their meeting. 

"I can't believe this!” Mitsuhiro leaned back to get a good look at his father's face, so like his own, smiling so wide his jaw might fall off. ”My father and mother told me- I grew up and-" He swallowed, unable to form the words, in English or Japanese. "I always wanted to know..."

"Where y'come from." McCree finished for him, his hands still on Mitsuhiro's shoulders. "Yer roots. And hell, why you turned out such a handsome devil! The name's Jesse," he said deliberately omitting his last name. "And how are your parents? They good to you? They feed you okay?”

"My father is dead when I was twelve," he stated, smiling ruefully. "But he was a good man. My mother lives in Yokohama now- ah, I told her, and she want to meet you too!"

"Heh, we're on a bit of a time crunch, but I reckon I'd like that too next time... Mitsuhiro, that’s a good name.” He drew the boy in for another hug, rumbling deep in his chest, a low sound of _my son. My kid._ "...Can't believe I'm finally meetin' ya," McCree said before drawing back. "Oh! I shouldn't hog ya-" He turned to Hanzo, looking at him expectantly. 

And Hanzo ached horribly, slow and intense, as he tried to muster up the strength to look directly at Mitsuhiro. He remembered the baby he’d nurtured right next to his own heart for nine months, that precious growing soul with ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes, who had been _his_ child for all of four hours. But twenty-one years stretched out past the horizon in front of him, was it really possibly to transverse that space in just a step? 

It wasn’t. He looked away, his expression carefully blank, even as the barest edge of his lip trembled. He tried to still the shudder of his breathing, the quaking of his fingers. 

McCree coughed. "Hey, y'gonna introduce yourself or...? Tell the kid why you're here at least."

There was a silence, before he finally spoke. “My name is Hanzo. We’ve… We’ve met before.” 

_ End _

  


End file.
